


Never Liked The Quiet Before

by PastelClark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is Suffering, Ambiguous Relationships, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Vaguely Implied Reincarnation?, all aboard the suffering train, she just wants her family, the adventures of Allura and the original paladins whoopee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelClark/pseuds/PastelClark
Summary: At the time when Allura is roughly around six cycles old, she firmly believes that the world is perfect.After all, why wouldn’t she? She’s the princess of an advanced, cultured race with, as far as she’s concerned, the universe’s best festivals and the most beautiful planet across all the galaxies, lush with fields of juniberries, and she lives in a castle that can literally fly through space if the need arises. Nothing has gone wrong in her life, and nothing ever will.  (Or, Allura remembers the paladins of old, and then tries to forget.)





	1. Fall to Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Me @ Myself: You already have two in-progress fics. You don't have time for another.
> 
> Me: ...Unfortunate
> 
>  
> 
> (Title from It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton because I'm a Hoe.)

At the time when Allura is roughly around six cycles old, she firmly believes that the world is perfect.

 

After all, why wouldn’t she? She’s the princess of an advanced, cultured race with, as far as she’s concerned, the universe’s best festivals and the most beautiful planet across all the galaxies, lush with fields of juniberries, and she lives in a castle that can literally fly through space if the need arises.

 

Nothing has gone wrong in her life, and nothing ever will.

 

At least, that’s what she concludes at the time, because she is six and everything is still new and exciting, and everyday in the Castle of Lions is an adventure just waiting to happen.

 

And Allura? Her favorite thing, maybe after her father… and her cat, is adventure.

 

Which is why she can’t understand why her beloved pet _refuses_ to participate in seeking said adventure.

 

“Hibi!” She screeches, tackling her cat as he tries to make a run for it for the sixth time. “Sit still! Father said there are surprise special guests coming today, so we have to look nice before we can play!” She concludes this by firmly clipping on Hibi’s most fancy collar, complete with bells, earning Allura a disgruntled look from the cat before he squirms out of her grip and slinks out the open door.

 

Sighing, Allura straightens herself up and dusts off the front of her dress, pink with a pale blue lace border, one of her prettiest ones in her opinion. She’d taken great pains with choosing her outfit today, with the help of her nanny, in preparation for today’s guests’ arrival. Father hadn’t told her who they were, just that it was a surprise, which assures Allura that it will be something exciting— Father only makes such a fuss about secrecy when it’s something he knows she’ll like. Perhaps it was Counselor Gelkins back from his trip to Marus. He often brought his son with him on reports to see Allura, and as such they’d been good friends since they were very little.

 

“Mistress Allura?” She glances up at her nanny peering through the doorway, a knowing smile on her face. “The king’s guests are here, it’s time for you to go greet them.”

 

Allura whoops, jumping up and shooting down the hall before her nanny can catch her, ignoring the shouts behind her as she races for the throne room, bursting through the doors and coming to a halt when she recognizes the figures standing and conversing with her father.

 

“Uncle Zarkon! Aunt Almari!” She yells, getting a surprised look from the pair that quickly turns to doting smiles. Almari steps forward instantly, and Allura bounds forward, accepting the hug from the Druid happily, looking up once she’s been let go to Zarkon, who winks at Allura before offering her his hand, bowing when she accepts it with a giggle.

 

“Princess Allura.” Zarkon says with a formality barely concealing the amusement behind his words, and when he straightens up again Almari flicks her mate’s ear, one hand coming up to cover her own barely-concealed smile.

 

“Oh, so you’ll bow to Allura properly, but when Alfor comes to greet us you just tackle him?”

 

Zarkon grins sheepishly, and Allura hears her father snort, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Your husband has been doing that for so many years I think he now considers that the only greeting for me there is, Almari.” Alfor’s grin is poorly hidden as he glances at Zarkon. “Honestly, what do you see in him?”

 

Zarkon splutters in mock-offense, and Allura giggles. “I am a fine specimen of intelligence and charm, and you know it, you— Ah, yes Allura?” Allura grins sheepishly, and releases the hem of Zarkon’s robe from where she’d been tugging on it.

 

“If you’re here, does that mean Rhian is too?”

 

Almari smiles down at her fondly. “Yes, she got impatient and went looking for you, actually. She said she’d come right back if she couldn’t find you, so I imagine—“ From across the room an excited squeal sounds, and Almari chuckles. “…She’ll come back soon.”

 

_“Allura!”_

Allura barely has time to turn before a weight slams into her, near picking her up in a crushing hug, and she returns the shout with enthusiasm, wiggling her arms out of the hold to hug the other back. “Rhian! You’re here!”

 

Rhian giggles, letting go of her, and Allura takes a step back, grinning as she looks over her best friend. Allura is a beautiful princess, she knows, she’s been told frequently, but as far as she is concerned Rhian is the most beautiful person she’s ever met— She has her mother’s classically Druid-like slim build, her long legs, her thin wrists and delicate fingers, her hair, long dark purple curls pulled back off her face, as well as her father’s wide, catlike ears, with fuzzy purple fur Allura knows is soft to the touch, his yellow Galra eyes, his pointed teeth. Allura suspects she’ll inherit Zarkon’s height as well, but for now Allura is grateful she’s yet to have it set in. Rhian is already a near half-head taller than her, not including the extra height her ears lend her, thanks to the couple extra cycles of age she has on Allura, and she’d rather not have her friend get any more taller than her.

 

“Yep! I’m here, I’m here!” Rhian says happily, jumping up and down a little in place. “Did you know we were coming? Daddy said it was going to be a surprise! We’re staying a whole two weeks for some galactic conference, all the way to your birthday!”

 

“Really?!” Rhian nods, and Allura screeches in delight, turning around and hugging her father’s leg, beaming up at him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

 

Father smiles down at her indulgently. “Of course. Lord Zarkon and Queen Almari had to stay the week for the meetings with the diplomats regardless, and they were more than happy to stay a little longer to be there for your birthday. We know it’s been a while since you and Rhian have last seen each other.”

 

“Thank you for letting us stay here.” Almari says gracefully, and Alfor chuckles.

 

“Of course. It’s hardly any trouble to host my oldest friend and his lovely wife and daughter. Your sister won’t be joining us, then?”

 

Almari smiles. “Ah, we asked, since she’s good to have for diplomatic meetings, but you know Haggari. She’s so buried in her research that the mere idea of taking a couple weeks off from her experiments was too much for her.”

 

“She’s becoming a recluse, is what she is.” Zarkon mumbles. “I overheard some of the guards talking the other day— They’ve started abbreviating her name to _Haggar._ ” His voice is tinged with amusement, and for a moment he glances down at Allura, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “To mean ‘the hag’. They are half-convinced she is an evil witch in disguise.”

 

Allura giggles, along with Rhian, and Almari sighs pointedly. “She’s a genius, no doubt. The old magic of our ancestors that she studies are things I have never even read of, but I do wish she’d socialize a little more.”

 

Alfor smiles patiently, shaking his head. “She is young. Give her time, I think she’ll come into her own eventually.” From across the room, a guard opens the door, peering in and nodding to Alfor, and he straightens almost imperceptibly. “Ah, looks like they’re ready for us. Allura, why don’t you and Rhian go explore for a bit while we’re working?”

 

That’s all the prompting Allura needs, beaming at the permission to leave and grabbing Rhian’s hand, pulling her out of the room and down the hall, the two of them giggling all the while.

 

“C’mon, c’mon!” She squeals, pulling Rhian into an empty ballroom and shutting the door behind them. Rhian laughs, positioning herself in front of Allura and holding up a hand dramatically, prompting a snicker from Allura.

This has become their tradition, the first thing they do each time they are reunited, to show each other what new things they have learned.

 

Rhian grins. “You’ll love this. Auntie taught me.” Straightening her shoulders, she holds up her hands, closing her eyes in concentration, and Allura gasps in delight as the small purple sparks and flames signature of Druid magic creep across Rhian’s palms, dancing along her fingertips and finally settling into a tiny purple copy of Allura herself, standing in Rhian’s cupped hands.

 

“Isn’t it great?” Rhian whispers, opening her eyes, bright yellow staring at Allura in excitement. “One day I’ll be able to make life-size copies, with proper coloring too, just like Maman and Auntie.”

 

Allura claps her hands, nodding, and Rhian’s smile widens, pulling apart her hands and dispersing the image. “Alright, now you.”

 

Giggling, Allura closes her eyes, focusing on the shape of her body, as her father taught her, and pushing it to change. When she opens her eyes, she’s grown, now slightly taller than a gaping Rhian.

 

“Wow.” Rhian breathes, peering at Allura’s heightened frame in delight. “And your clothing grows too?”

 

“Altean fabric.” Allura says. “It’s made to change with us when we shift shapes.”

 

Rhian’s eyes widen, reaching out to poke the edge of Allura’s dress, making her giggle. “I wish mine did that! It’d be so cool!” She frowns, glancing down at her own form-fitting robe with its loose-flowing bottom half from her hips to her knees, the loose pants of traditional Galran wear that remind Allura of sleeping bottoms peeking out from below the edge of the robe, bunching around the bottoms of her ankles just above her bare feet, purple toes wiggling as she rocks back and forth, and Allura giggles at her friend’s antics.

 

“You don’t change shape. You have no need for clothing like mine.”

 

“True.” Rhian admits, and Allura laughs, grabbing her hands and tugging her across the ballroom and through another door, back to exploring the castle, hiding from passing servants and sneaking around, pretending to be secret soldiers, as they muffle their giggles against their hands at each near-moment of being caught.

 

“…Do you know what the meetings are about?” Allura asks, some time later, as they wander, having accidentally stumbled into one of the flight decks and opting to explore around the various docked ships.

 

“Mmm… Voltron, I think.” Rhian says, idly knocking on the side of an older Altean speeder. “Some other stuff too, obviously, but I know Daddy wanted to talk to Uncle Alfor about it.”

 

Allura nods sagely. Voltron had been a project of her father’s and Zarkon’s since before she was even born, and it was all very secretive, in a way. She isn’t sure how they came about to be, but she knows her father built the lions— Or found them, maybe? — And that they held the spirits of great beings. Gods, even, she’s heard some of the servants say in hushed tones, ones that were protectors of their universe.

 

“I think Father is worried.” She says to Rhian in a conspiring tone, lowering her voice despite them being the only two around. “I’ve heard him talking about it. The lions will only bond to their paladin, one person and one person only who is meant for them, and the only one they’ve got is Uncle Zarkon. I think he really wants this Voltron thing to work, whatever the final result is supposed to be once they have all the paladins. He’s nervous about the fights between the Marusians and the Slyreans leading to war.”

 

Rhian gasps dramatically, and Allura nods again. War is a forbidden topic— Whispered about amongst gossiping servants and in the conversations she overhears between her father and his advisors. She doesn’t understand too much about it, just that it involves a lot of fighting and is very bad. Altea is at the center of many alliances, Father has told her before as she sits on his knee, listening intently, as is Galrae, and if war broke out between two planets they were allied with, the Altean and Galran governments might have no choice to intervene.

 

Voltron, her father had said, was the answer. A protector for the universe not caught up in treaties or alliances, meant only to help and serve.

 

…Once the paladins are found, at least.

 

Allura glances at her friend, an idea coming to mind that causes her to grin widely. The Black lion stays with Zarkon, in fact she guesses Rhian and her family probably came here with it, but the other four, for now, remain in the Altean castle for safeguarding. “I know a secret way into the Red lion’s hangar. Do you want to see it?”

 

Rhian perks up, nodding excitedly, and Allura grabs her friend’s hand, leading her out the door.

 

 

xxx

 

 

“Woah…” Rhian whispers when they enter the Red lion’s hangar, eyes wide. “This is so coooool…” She laughs, pulling Allura forward with her until they reach the base of the lion’s shield, peering up at it. “…Black is bigger.” She says, after a moment, and Allura snorts.

 

“Father says the Red lion is faster.”

 

“But Daddy’s lion is _bigger_.” Rhian says again, firmly, causing Allura to giggle loudly.

 

“You’re just going to insult Red right in front of it?”

 

“Not an it, a her.” Rhian says absentmindedly, stepping forward and poking the Red lion’s shield experimentally.

 

“How do you know that?” Allura asks, confused.

 

“I just do.” Rhian frowns, taking a step back and looking around, eyes unfocused.

 

“Hey,” Allura carefully catches Rhian’s wrist and she startles, glancing back at Allura. “You okay?”

 

“Fine.” Rhian’s voice is distant. “I’m just… Do you hear that?”

 

Allura frowns, looking around. “Hear what?”

 

“That…” Rhian slips free of Allura’s grip taking a few unsteady steps, before jolting as if shocked and snapping her head around to stare directly at an entryway across the hangar Allura knows leads to the next lion’s bay. “It’s so… Loud.” Suddenly, she breaks into a run, sprinting across the hangar as if her life depends on it, and Allura yelps in surprise, chasing after the other.

 

“Rhian, wait!”

 

“C’mon Allura!” Rhian’s voice is giddy, chasing some unknown entity Allura can’t hear. She stops as she reaches the entryway, whirling around and beaming at Allura, eyes bright. “She’s calling to me!”

 

“Who?!” Allura shouts, but Rhian is already gone, ducking through the entryway as the doors open automatically for her, which… startles Allura for a second. She thought one needed a clearance scan to pass through each lion’s hangar. She only got into the Red lion’s one because she’d found a secret way through the vents.

 

Pushing herself out of her surprise, she sprints after Rhian, skidding through the doors just as they slide shut behind her, nearly crashing into the other girl where she stands frozen, peering up at the shield of the Blue lion where it stands in front of them.

 

“Rhian.” She hisses nervously, tugging at the edges of her sleeves. “We shouldn’t be here! We’re going to get in so much trouble!”

 

Rhian ignores her, taking a step forward and holding a hand up to the shield, palm hovering a few inches from it, eyes set on the Blue lion.

 

 _“Rhian.”_ She says again, frantically.

“You’ve been alone so long…” Rhian mumbles, not even glancing Allura’s way. “I’m sorry it took so long.” She cocks her head, as if listening, and nods. “But it’s ok. I’m here now.” She presses her hand to the shield and it dissolves, the floor of the hangar rumbling as the blue magic falls apart, shooting out and flying past Rhian and Allura like a wave. Allura shouts, throwing her hands up to her face to shield it as the magic storms by, and when she pulls her hands away, she sees the Blue lion moving, forelegs crouching and head shooting down to where they are. She screams, stumbling away until her back hits the hangar wall, but Rhian doesn’t move, instead laughing loudly as the lion’s head comes to a stop in front of her, chin resting on the ground. Rhian whoops, jumping up and climbing up its jaw to hug its nose, and Allura bites back another scream as the lion lifts its head, Rhian still clinging to its snout as she laughs.

 

“Allura!” She hears a shout, and turns as her father, Zarkon and Almari trialing behind him, sprints into the hangar from the main doors. “We got an alarm someone had entered the lion hangars, are you al—“ Alfor freezes, words cut off as he screeches to a halt, Zarkon and Almari doing the same, all three staring up at the still moving Blue lion, its paws stepping up and down happily in a way Allura might consider bouncing if it wasn’t so big, with Rhian sitting easily on the top of its nose.

 

“Maman! Daddy!” She shouts down, waving. “Look! I found her!”

 

Almari and Alfor don’t move, seemingly still shell-shocked, much like Allura herself, but after a moment Zarkon laughs, delight in his voice. “That’s my girl!” He grabs Alfor’s arm, shaking him slightly in excitement. “She’s Blue’s.”

 

“She’s only a child.” Almari mumbles, but Zarkon only smiles wider.

 

“She’s one of a kind, just like her lion.” Rhian’s father grins up at her, pride on his face. “Looks like we’ve got two paladins now after all.”

 

“…Yes” Alfor says, gently putting an arm around Allura as she steps into his side and glancing down at her before looking up at Rhian and Blue once again. “I suppose we do.”

 

The Blue lion tips its head back, and Rhian screeches in joy as she slides along its muzzle, coming to rest between its eyes and planting a kiss on the metal there, looking up after a moment and grinning down at Allura.

 

Inexplicably, Allura feels a sinking feeling in her stomach.

 

From now on, something deep inside tells her, everything is going to start to change.

 

 

xxx

 

 

Allura wakes with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in her bed and pressing her hand to her chest, feeling the hammering of her heart below the skin. Next to her, the mice, awoken by the mental bond they share, stir and move to her side, clinging to her hand and racing up her arm to settle on her shoulder.

 

Breathing heavily, Allura slumps forward, trying to ignore the shaking in her hands.

 

“I’m fine.” She whispers to the mice. “I’m… I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

 

They twitter disbelievingly, settling more comfortably on her shoulder, and she sighs, tipping her head back and staring at the ceiling.

 

There’ll be no sleeping after… that.

 

Idly, she gets out of bed, pulling on her dressing robe and walking to the kitchen, mice still settled firmly on her shoulder. A cup of something warm to drink, she thinks, something to settle her mind. That’s what she needs.

 

It’s only when she gets to the kitchen and realizes she is no longer alone that she is broken out of her musings, jumping in surprise before settling, unconsciously pressing a hand against her thrumming heart again.

 

“Lance.” She sighs, staring at the other occupant of the kitchen, who grins sheepishly from where he’s perched on one of the benches, a mug cradled between his hands. “You startled me.”

 

“Sorry princess.” He says, shrugging amicably and taking a sip from whatever is in his cup. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up so early.”

 

“Nor did I.” She admits, prompting herself into movement again and beginning her search for the ingredients she’ll need for the tea she likes. “I thought you weren’t really a morning person.”

 

Lance laughs self-consciously, scratching the back of his head. “It depends, honestly. On my own time, some days I’ll sleep till the afternoon and others I’ll be up all night. I’m not good with… time.”

 

_“It’s not my fault, Allura.” Rhian whines from next to her. “Whenever I keep a ticker with me, I just lose it! How am I supposed to know the time?”_

 

Allura shakes her head, batting away the unbidden thought and tries to focus on preparing her tea. “So you haven’t slept yet at all?”

 

Lance chuckles. “Not yet, no. Since we’re not training till late today I figured I’d just sleep till the afternoon or something.” He hops off the counter, placing his mug down and stretching, and Allura raises an eyebrow.

 

“Are you off to do that, then?”

 

“What?” Lance startles, glancing over at her. “Oh. Nah, uh, still got a couple hours before I crash, y’know? Still riding that sweet sleep-deprivation high. Gonna go spend some time with the loveliest lady on the ship.” He blinks. “Uh, aside from you, of course.” He shoots her a couple of what her paladins had previously informed her were _finger guns_ , and maneuvers his way over to the kitchen entryway. “If you’ll excuse me, Blue’s an impatient soul. She gets lonely left on her own.”

 

Allura flinches, remembering the words from her dream, and for a second, she sees not Lance but Rhian in front of her, long hair messy from sleep and the same easy posture she shares with her successor, yellow eyes sleepy but bright and cheerful.

 

“…You alright, princess?” She startles, blinking and looking up at… Lance. Yes, Lance. She’s here with Lance.

 

Rhian has not stood here for over ten thousand years.

 

Lance says something else, and she shivers. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“I asked if you were alright. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

 

“I’m… fine.” She says, shaking her head. “Just had a… moment.”

 

Lance furrows his eyebrows, frowning, but doesn’t press her, and in that moment Allura is extremely grateful that Lance, for all his flirting and showboating, is very perceptive when it comes to others and their emotions. “…Alright then. Just know I’m here if you ever need to talk or… y’know.”

 

“Of course.” She says, and he smiles, saluting her and meandering out of the kitchen.

 

Once he’s gone, Allura closes her eyes and leans back against the counter, gripping the cool metal with her fingers as a sort of anchor.

 

She thinks of Galran purple, of lions and the people that once flew them, and of a makeshift family now gone.

 

…And then she wills herself to forget.


	2. At The Core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again the Balmera calls to her, wishing to know what she seeks, and Allura hesitantly answers. “One like your own. A Balmeran.” She huffs out a breath, falling against the wall and sinking to the ground, curling her arms around herself. “One who was like a brother to me, a lifetime ago.”
> 
> He’s dead, she knows. They are all dead, and yet she keeps looking, for answers if nothing else. 
> 
> (Yellow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this fic isn't dead I'm just Bad at Updating Schedules.

Really, Allura thinks, she got very lucky that Lance and Hunk turned out to be good friends.

 

Or unlucky, depending on how she looked at it.

 

On the plus side, it meant that her natural inclinations to pair them together for drills and assignments, like when they first went to retrieve the Yellow lion, worked out smoothly, the two of them working together just as naturally as their predecessors.

 

On the downside… It led to… _feelings_.

 

She’s really not sure how the relationship between two people reminding her of _another_ pair leads to such intense introspection on her part, but, well… she’s never really been sensible when it came to matters involving Rhian, even ten thousand years down the line.

 

In many ways, it has inevitably damaged any chances she ever had of developing a normal friendship with Lance. Admittedly, Lance’s flirtatious habits are slightly bothersome, but Allura doesn’t get the impression he has any actual interest in her in _that_ way, and she rather honestly believes that if she told him it bothered her or made her uncomfortable, rather than just ignoring or rebuking him, he would cease the behavior immediately.

 

No, as a whole, there’s nothing actually inherently _wrong_ with Lance. He’s earnest, well meaning, enthusiastic, and kind.

 

She just… cannot bring herself to like him.

 

Every time she looks at him, she is reminded of who once stood in his place.

 

(Coran is much the same, really, when it comes to Pidge. Allura doesn’t think she’s ever heard him call the green paladin by her name. Perhaps he fears using the wrong one.)

 

It’s different with the others, she thinks. She was never as close with the other paladins as she was with Rhian. They were friends, of course, even like extended family to her, but Rhian was… Everything. The only person in her life she had loved more had been her father.

 

It’s frustrating, not being able to let this, let _her_ , go for the sake of Lance and of the future, but Allura is not strong enough. He’s too similar, and yet too different.

 

Then again, much is different with these paladins. Not only in how they look and act, but also inevitably in their relationships with each other. Shiro and Keith seem intimately close, like family or at least lifelong friends, but Zarkon and the former red paladin had a cordial relationship at the best of times, Zarkon’s betrayal easily killing their fragile friendship.

 

And while Rhian had been the heart of the paladins of old, it seems much the opposite for these paladins in relation to their blue companion. Pidge and Lance are amicable, yes, but not incredibly close, and when it comes to Shiro and Keith… Well. Keith and Lance fight more than anything else, which admittedly isn’t entirely different from the initial behavior of their former counterparts, but that behavior had changed quickly back then, while these two seem content to continuously scrap and argue.

 

Shiro’s relationship with Lance is perhaps the most bothersome. Lance seems to admire Shiro, but the other appears to tolerate him at best. It’s a jarring difference from the way Zarkon and Rhian had treated each other, and while admittedly there is no blood relation here holding Shiro and Lance together, watching them interact still feels inherently _wrong_ to Allura when one doesn’t seem to even _like_ the other.

 

It’s just… too different from the way things were. Even after everything went wrong, when Zarkon turned his back on the universe, and on them, Rhian had never stopped loving her father.

 

If nothing else, Lance has Hunk, and Hunk has Lance. The depth of their friendship is somewhat subtle, but over time Allura has come to recognize it for what it holds in similarity to Rhian and the former yellow paladin’s. They clearly care about each other, and express impressive loyalty in that regard. Allura has no doubt they’d take a bullet for each other, just as their predecessors would, and _had_ for that matter, on numerous occasions.

 

But yes, she finds in many ways the only similar relationship among the paladins is that of Hunk and Lance. Hence, her complicated feelings on it— For as much as it’s nice to find something in the behavior of her paladins that feels like her home, it makes it harder to look at Lance and Hunk and not see _them_.

 

It has been a matter of weeks, and it has been ten thousand years, and yet the universe will not let Allura forget.

 

 

xxx

 

 

 

After the fight against the robobeast on the Balmera, once Hunk has slipped away with Shay to talk and the rest of her paladins are mingling with the locals and celebrating on the surface, Allura finds herself making polite excuses to avoid conversation and then disappearing from the group to wander the caves below aimlessly, hands brushing along the walls in silent contemplation.

 

She doesn’t know what she is looking for. Well. No, that is not quite correct. She knows _what_ she seeks, she is just aware she will not find it here.

 

And yet, she walks.

 

The Balmera hums to her, warmth coiling under the rock beneath her fingertips. It talks to her less in words and more in sensations, her revival of it with her quintessence connecting her to it much like it is to its inhabitants.

 

The first Balmeran she had known in her now ridiculously long life had once compared it to the bond he felt with his lion, deep and wordless and unfathomable.

 

Allura sighs, the Balmera calls to her, asking her what it is she is searching for, and she smiles, shaking her head sadly. “I will not find it here.” She tells it softly.

 

It is impossible for this to be his Balmera, she knows. It was likely destroyed centuries ago, in Zarkon’s quest to erase everything tied to his past, and the people in it. She knows, for she has seen the files Pidge has managed to retrieve from the Galran databases so far. The family Zarkon once had— Rhian, Almari, Haggari, they are all nonexistent in the history books. Women lost to time.

 

If Zarkon can erase his wife and daughter from history, can destroy the race of people the man who was once like a brother to him belonged to, it is probably not much of a leap to assume he would destroy the planet of a man he once called his friend.

 

In a way, Allura is surprised there are still Balmeran people left around _at all._ Perhaps the value of the labor was worth more than the haunting memories, to Zarkon.

 

She would not know, she thinks she would give up many things, even those not hers to give, to be free of her past.

 

Again the Balmera calls to her, wishing to know what she seeks, and Allura hesitantly answers. “One like your own. A Balmeran.” She huffs out a breath, falling against the wall and sinking to the ground, curling her arms around herself. “One who was like a brother to me, a lifetime ago.”

 

He’s dead, she knows. They are all dead, and yet she keeps looking, for answers if nothing else.

 

Quiznak, she doesn’t even know how they died. Why can’t the universe at least tell her _that_?

 

“Allura?” Coran’s searching voice calls down the hallway, and a moment later he appears, studiously looking around until his eyes land on her and he brightens, walking over to her and, after a moment of hesitation, squatting down so he can face her at the same level where she is sitting. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Fine.” She offers him a small smile. “I was just… speaking to the Balmera.”

 

“Mmm.” Coran hums sagely, eyes flickering up to the cavern ceiling above them. “I do not think this place can offer either of us the answers we seek, my dear.”

 

“I know, Coran.” Allura says softly. “It is just… Overwhelming, once you are not distracted with fighting. I did not wish to disturb the locals with my musings while they are celebrating.”

 

Coran laughs somberly, standing up and offering her a hand, which she gratefully takes as he helps her to her feet. “I understand what you mean.” Coran says with faux cheerfulness. “When Hunk and myself first met Shay and her family, he seemed so at home with them I half expected him to start speaking with a Balmeran accent and talk about mineral contents in the rocks.” Allura snorts, and Coran smiles. “You are allowed to grieve, Allura.”

 

She giggles wetly, rubbing at her eyes despite herself. “I don’t have the luxury or the _time_ to grieve. The paladins need a guiding hand, not a little girl who weeps for the dead.”

 

“…He would be proud, you know. All of them would.” Coran offers. “And grateful, I’m sure. Different Balmera or not, these are his people. It would mean something to him that you protected them, and their home.”

 

“Would he, really?” Allura asks, unable to help herself. At Coran’s frown, she shakes her head, brushing past him and heading back up the tunnel to the surface.

 

She’s pretty sure saving what’s left of this planet is the _least_ of what she owes the Balmeran who was once a paladin, after everything that happened, but Coran doesn’t need to know that.

 

This is her guilt to keep.

 

 

xxx

 

 

They find the yellow paladin on a medium-sized Balmera on the edge of the Galrae system when Allura is just under ten cycles old.

 

It’s supposed to be a routine check-in. The residents had reported sightings of Marusian fighter craft circling the atmosphere, when they were expressly banned from entering the Galrae system with military craft without permission, and the castle was in need of a couple small crystals for powering some minor backup systems anyways, so the two tasks of checking up on the rumors and collecting the crystals had been folded into one quick stop to the planet.

 

Uncle Zarkon, Aunt Almari, Rhian, and some of their staff are with them when they go to visit the Balmera. They have been visiting the castle more often now, since Rhian bonded with the Blue lion. It was one thing to separate Black from the other lions for long periods of time, but both Father and Zarkon agreed it would not do to keep two lions separate from the other three constantly, nor would the Blue lion stand to be apart from Rhian, practically throwing the giant mechanical lion equivalent of a temper tantrum when that was suggested. So, for now Rhian and her family shuttle back and forth between Galrae and the Castle of Lions every few weeks, though Allura has overheard conversations between her father and Zarkon about them, or at least Rhian, moving into the Castle fulltime if and when another paladin is found.

 

She… doesn’t know how to feel about that. As much as having Rhian around all the time sounds wonderful, Allura feels like their relationship has grown complicated since Rhian became a paladin.

 

Glancing to her left, Allura watches Rhian waiting patiently as the castle makes to land on the Balmera, her arms crossed behind her and a neutral expression on her face. For what’s primarily a diplomatic visit, Rhian’s donned her traditional Galran assemble like she used to wear when they were younger, before Blue, but it’s become something of a rarity for Allura to see her friend wearing such clothes. More often than not these days, she only ever sees Rhian wearing the form-fitting bodysuit with its light plates of armor that is typical Galran sparring gear, always seemingly going to or coming back from some kind of training— Flying, hand-to-hand combat, weapons instructions, diplomacy… Allura is no stranger to self-defense training, it’s something taught to many Altean children for their own safety in a race of diplomats and explorers, but it still feels to her like _all_ Rhian does these days is practice and practice and _practice_.

 

She long thought Rhian would get bored of it, that her light-hearted, bubbly friend would give up and quit, and yet she never faltered, not once in the cycles since she became the Blue paladin.

 

“It’s my duty.” Rhian told her only once, expression joyful and bright. “I am Blue’s. I am going to be a protector of the universe, just like Dad. It’s all worth it.”

 

She wonders how it is, in this quick passing of time, that Rhian has grown up so rapidly when she herself still feels much the same.

 

Sighing, Allura turns away from Rhian, watching her father and the others gathered around the ship’s main console, talking in low voices. Zarkon is standing in his armor, a couple of his guards hovering over his shoulder, and to his left Almari hovers with patient grace, her Druid robes hugging her form in a picture of Queenly beauty and prestige. A couple feet from her, Haggari shifts quietly in her spot, playing with the book in her hands, looking somewhere between bored and wishing to join in the conversation, if not too awkward to do so.

 

Haggari doesn’t often come with them for diplomatic matters, despite the talent Zarkon feels she shows for it. She’s something of a recluse, from what Allura has observed in her short time, preferring her research to dealing with a throng of people. A reflection of her childhood, she had once overheard Almari say, as Haggari had learned young that she stuck out amongst both Galrans and Alteans.

 

The Druid in question does hold a striking image in Allura’s mind. Druids are classically considered the intersection between Galrans and Alteans, a group of people of mixed bloodlines that long ago grew into their own mini-race, with an odd kind of magic granted to them by their mixed ancestries. Druids don’t always marry and have children inside their own, but when they occasionally do marry an outsider it is more often with Galrans, who they generally looked more like, albeit with Alteans’ slim builds.

 

If nothing else, given Druids make their home on Galrae, someone like Haggari is unusual. With a Druid mother and Altean father, Haggari carries an odd mix of features— The purple splashes on her otherwise warm brown skin are really all she got from her mother, marked by her Altean blood with her altean ears, reddish-pink markings under her eyes, and her long white hair she constantly wears pulled back in a small clasp that parts it into two gathered sections at the back of her head, much like Rhian has taken to emanating lately.

 

She’s not biologically related to Almari. The latter had adopted her into her coven after she lost her parents as a child, and Almari had called her sister since.

 

Allura thinks it’s a lovely story, one she’s had Almari repeat to her many times. She’d love to ask Haggari about it one day, if only the other wasn’t so shy.

 

Speaking of… Allura grins when Haggari glances up and over at her, waving once and deciding to count it as a victory when Haggari hesitantly waves back.

 

As the sister of the woman she calls Aunt, she is Allura’s family, Haggari just doesn’t know it yet.

 

There’s a rumble and a creak as the ship lands, and Allura bounces excitedly in place, looking to the adults. The moment they all shift to leave, she allows herself to be free of her waiting spot, bounding over and grabbing Rhian’s hand. “Do you want to go explore?”

 

Rhian hesitates, and from across the room Zarkon calls for her. “Rhian, come! The Balmerans are very excited to meet the second paladin!”

 

Rhian lights up, ears flicking forward in attentiveness as she looks to her father. “Coming Dad!” Carefully, she slips her hand free of Allura’s. “Sorry, ‘Lura. We can go adventuring later, okay?”

 

“I… okay.” Allura says, watching sullenly as Rhian waves goodbye to her and scampers after her father. She crosses her arms and stares at the ground, only jolted from her pouting when she feels her father’s hand land gently on her shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong, Allura?” He asks her kindly. “I thought you were eager to see the Balmera?”

 

“I am!” She yelps. “It’s just… I wanted to see it with Rhian, and she never has time for me anymore.”

 

Alfor chuckles, lifting his hand to smooth it along the top of her head. “I know it can be frustrating, but Rhian is under a lot of pressure right now. We weren’t expecting to find any of the paladins so young, and as it stands Rhian is not yet thirteen cycles yet being asked to train to be both a soldier and as the future leader of her planet, much like you in that regard. You must have patience with her, dear.”

 

Allura sighs. “Yes Father, I know.”

 

 

xxx

 

 

Even on her own, the Balmera proves to be entertaining to Allura. Within five minutes of landing, once her father and the others have headed off to speak with the locals, she slips the guard assigned to watch her and runs off to explore in the crystal fields, coaxing a few Balmeran children into playing a game of tag with her. It’s plenty of fun, and Allura is reveling in the fact that she doesn’t _need_ Rhian, thank you very much, she can have plenty of fun without her.

 

…At least, she is until the Marusian fighter jets appear.

 

There’s a scream from one of the other children, and Allura turns quickly to see the craft swooping down on them, firing off a shot that misses Allura by only a few feet, demolishing the crystal that stood there seconds ago. She stumbles back, eyes wide, and looks up to see the jet circling around, guns humming as they light up, preparing to fire once again

 

In an instant, they’re all running, Allura stumbling over her own skirt as the other children sprint ahead in a panic, their larger size allowing them a much faster escape. She shrieks as another shot goes wide, hitting the ground on the left of her and sending her reeling, tripping over a smaller crystal and hitting the ground hard. She groans, pushing her upper body off the rock, wincing as it cuts into her hands, and watches as the fighter swoops around again, clearly set on her.

 

She has barely a second to wonder if her luck has run out, if it will hurt, before strong arms suddenly grab her off the ground and purple lightning dances from a hand thrust in front of her, grabbing the Marusian fighter and consuming it, sending it crashing to the ground.

 

Allura gapes, unblinking, then slowly turns to look at the person responsible, Haggari’s frightened purple irises staring back down at her. “Are you alright?”

 

“…Yes.” Allura answers, still feeling shell-shocked. She’s never seen Druid magic shaped like that before.

 

Haggari nods once, shaky. “Come.” She gathers Allura tighter, and the world around them shivers. Allura squeezes her eyes shut in panic, and when she opens them again, they are in front of the castle.

 

“Allura!” Her father yells, and in an instant she is in his arms, held close to his chest as her father shakes with a kind of barely-concealed panic. “Thank you, Haggari.” Allura hears him say, and merely buries her face closer into her father’s shoulder, trying to wipe the images of the Marusian fighter from her mind.

 

After a moment, she steels herself and opens her eyes, pulling her head away from her father, and looks around. Haggari is there with them as to be expected, as are most of the staff that were accompanying them, but she cannot spot Zarkon, Almari, or, most importantly, Rhian. “Father, where—“

 

“Alfor!” Zarkon’s voice shouts, and Allura turns with her father to watch him and the remaining guards running to them, a limp Almari cradled in Zarkon’s arms. “Almari was knocked unconscious during one of the blasts, she need a healing pod.” Zarkon draws short, gaze roaming over the gathered group in front of him. “…Where is Rhian?”

 

Haggari straightens almost imperceptibly. “She is not with you?”

 

Zarkon shakes his head, panic taking over his expression. “She wandered off with her guard.”

 

“Your highness!” A woman’s voice calls, and Allura watches as a young Galran, likely only a few years an adult, wearing a bodysuit much like Rhian’s training one and with weapons strapped to her in various places, appears, sprinting over to them and screeching to a halt in front of Zarkon, hands shaking as she bounces nervously in place. “I— I can’t find her! She— I—“

 

Rhian’s personal bodyguard, Allura realizes. What was her name? Nami? Nimi?

 

“ _Nyami_.”

 

Ah, that was it.

 

Zarkon’s voice is coiled with barely-held patience. “ _Where is my daughter?_ ”

 

Nyami wilts. “I don’t know!” She wails. “She kept running ahead, looking for something, and when the first blast hit she just disappeared! I think she ran into one of the cave systems, maybe? I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find her, and I thought maybe she’d come back here!”

 

“Alright, alright.” Alfor says smoothly, cutting in. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably hunkered down with some of the locals. Once we’re sure everyone’s out of harms way, we’ll fire back on the last of the fighters and then we can go look for her.” Zarkon huffs angrily, and then winces in tandem with Alfor as another shot reverberates off the castle’s particle barrier surrounding them “Speaking of…” Allura watches as her father taps the communicator in his ear, calling to the bridge. “Corallis, how are things looking?”

 

“All good, sire. We have confirmation all the locals are below ground.”

 

Alfor nods to the rest of them on the ground. “Fire when ready.”

 

As the castle lets loose, Allura buries her face back into her father’s shoulder, throwing her hands over her ears as the shots shake the earth around them, the whistling sounds of the fighters as they fall and then crash piercing and overwhelming.

 

After what feels like an eternity, the shooting stops, and as the particle barrier dissipates, Allura raises her head to see Zarkon quickly hand Almari off to Nyami, who easily holds her despite her smaller stature, and take off across the Balmera’s surface, running like his life depends on it with Haggari close behind, both of them calling for Rhian.

 

Quickly wriggling free of her father’s hold, Allura drops to the ground and runs after them, ignoring her father’s calls as he curses and follows her after a moment, yelling back at Nyami to take Almari to the healing pods. She knows it’s not nice of her to ignore her father like this, but worry is coiling low in her gut, prompting her forward in the search to find her friend.

 

“Rhian!” She yells, barely noticing the Balmerans slowly peering out from the cave systems at the small group of them sprinting along the surface. “Rhian, where are you?!”

 

Just ahead of her, Zarkon screeches to a stop in front of what Allura recognizes as one of the Balmeran Elders, and she just barely manages to stop herself from crashing into him as she slows quickly to try to listen to their words.

 

“Are all of your people accounted for?” Zarkon asks urgently.

 

“All but one.” The Elder says. “One of our own took off into an abandoned system, following one he said he saw with purple hair.”

 

“Rhian!” Allura says excitedly, and Zarkon sighs in relief.

 

“Can you take us to this tunnel system?”

 

“Of course.” The elder says, and Allura hesitantly latches onto Zarkon’s hand, following him and the Elder, her father and Haggari a couple steps behind them, as they are led to what would be a tunnel entrance, if not for what looks like a newly caved-in wall of rock in front of them.

 

“Rhian!” Zarkon yells loudly, placing a hand against the rock. “Rhian, are you in there?”

 

The rock rumbles under Zarkon’s touch, and he retracts it quickly, staring at the rock wall apprehensively as it crumbles, collapsing as if it had never been there in the first place. After a moment, a younger Balmeran, probably in his late teens, edges into view, Rhian perched on his shoulder, seemingly fine aside from a couple of dirt-smudged scratches on her face and hands.

 

“Is it safe to come out?” The Balmeran asks nervously. “The shooting stopped, but I wasn’t sure if it was all over, so I asked the Balmera to keep the wall up.”

 

“Yes.” Zarkon says, bowing his head in a rare show of respect. “Thank you for protecting my daughter. Rhian, let us go now, say goodbye.”

 

Rhian whines, shaking her head and clinging firmly to the top of the Balmeran’s head. “No.”

 

“ _Rhian_.” Zarkon sighs. “It is safe, the fighters have been destroyed, now it is time to go. There are things to discuss in regard to this… development with the Marusians.”

 

“No!” Rhian yelps. “I don’t want to!”

 

“Rhian Zilar Marmora, stop this childishness.” Zarkon growls, the stress of the Marusian attack seemingly finally catching up to him. “It is unbefitting of your title and your position. We are going back to this castle _this instant_.” He steps forward, easily plucking Rhian off the Balmeran’s shoulder, and she screams, flailing and kicking out of her father’s hold, dropping to the ground. Allura stares with wide eyes as she scampers back, clinging to the Balmeran, who bends down and wraps his arms around her in turn, trying to comfort her.

 

Allura has never seen Rhian behave this way, especially towards her father. It’s bordering on scary, and she shivers as she stares at Rhian’s tear-streaked face.

 

“We need him!”Rhian wails. “ _I_ need him.”

 

Zarkon frowns, as if puzzling something over, and looks to Alfor, who raises an eyebrow in consideration. “…How did you know to find Rhian?” Zarkon asks after a moment, turning back to the Balmeran. “You’re the only one who went to her.”

 

“I just did.” The Balmeran says helplessly, straightening up with Rhian curled up like a cat on his shoulder again, clinging resolutely to him. “It was simply a feeling, like when the Balmera speaks to me.”

 

Zarkon hums, a smile slowly curling at the edges of mouth. “I wonder… What is your name, child?”

 

“Menz.” The Balmeran answers. “And I am not a child, I am just over eighteen cycles.”

 

“Menz.” Zarkon sounds out. “Would you care to accompany us back to the castle, Menz? I think there is something there that will be of interest to you.”

 

Rhian brightens, looking to Menz hopefully, and he nods carefully. “…Alright.”

 

Allura looks at her father, confused, and he smiles, offering a hand to her as the others turn and head back to the castle. “Come along, Allura. If I am right, I think you will want to see this.”

 

Her father _is_ right, for when a few ticks later in the Yellow lion’s hangar, when the great being awakens and greets its paladin, it is a sight to behold.

 

It is not the lion Allura cannot tear her eyes from, though. She is stuck on Rhian, still perched on Menz’s shoulder like she belongs there even as he meets his lion for the first time, the shy Balmeran hesitantly reaching out to touch the lion’s snout.

 

And Allura finds herself fighting the impending feeling, looking at Menz and Rhian, that she has just been replaced.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! Rhian's training suit as described is basically what Keith's Blade of Marmora combat suit is. 
> 
> Come chat on [Tumblr](http://pastel-clark.tumblr.com/) or [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/hpClarkster).

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr yo.](http://pastel-clark.tumblr.com/)


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